Another typical, relaxing Friday night not
by GeniusOfStupidness
Summary: After another world meeting on a usual Friday night, Romania makes some plans and walks happily home. But there can't be anything good coming out of that evening because Ivan Braginski showed up at her front door.


And there she was. It was yet another of those pointless world meetings. As if she ever talked. Nope, she just listened, noted few things, got groped by none other but Francis and then went home, simple as that. It was a never-ending cycle of those massive conferences she had to attend it order to make something good out of her country- not that any good changes would ever happen with her current government and such. Maybe just from bad to worse and worst. Hell, to even think that some people wanted communism back in the country- what was the world coming to?

Romania could never comprehend whether it was correct or not to think some things. She didn't know when it was right or wrong, and when she did something it was never good. She was, indeed, a bit lazy when it came to paperwork- nor was she/wanted to be responsible and able to handle her country on her own. She always wished for Prince Charming to appear one day, with lots of money and love to share. But no- there either was Greece who could not really keep his hands off her, and she couldn't get angry either, she considered him as being a really nice guy and they had a brother-sister relationship, either there was this pesky, insistent Turk who wanted her to become his freaking wife, or Francis, who was almost the worst, even if they've been kind of close for a period of time, especially culturally speaking, and last, but not least- Oh, Russia. Yes, yes, that scary person was constantly persuading Cristina. Was it not enough? He took some of her territories, he Russified Moldova, and become one with her during her communist times. What more did he want? Damn all of those bastards- but oh, they were all men. What could she expect of them…?

A commotion caused as usual by America, France and England arguing and teasing each-other interrupted her thoughts, but it was soon ended, thanks to Germany screaming his lungs out with that accent of his at them. That man- he was workaholic, stoic, intimidating and very organized. More likely, he was the opposite of Romania. She was lazy, somewhat mellow, very friendly, sometimes dumb and messy. And even when she was wrong, she proudly kept her point of view. It's a strange characteristic Romanians have- the whole world could be laughing at them and they can keep whining on forever about the bad image they have all over Europe- but they still remain proud of the blood running through their veins. Might be the fact that they were more or less the result of Dacia being conquered by the Romans a long, long time ago. Or maybe they're just full of themselves.

And as we were saying, the world conference ended with not much of an important conclusion, the nations scattering all around. As she moved away from her seat, Romania and Hungary caught a glimpse of each-other, stared, glared, stuck out the tongue to each-other, cursed in their native languages, 'hmph'ed and turned opposite directions, continuing their way, not interested if they were following the right path to wherever they had to go.

Sighing, Romania recovered from the annoyance that woman caused her every time they saw each-other and closed her eyes, trying to make the stress leave her mind. As soon as she got home and turned the TV on, surely there'll be the news all over, with more car accidents and dead persons, or more political conflicts, or more people complaining about the whole situation the country was in. Boring, boring, and again boring.

Deciding not to load her head with any more unpleasant plans for when reaching home, she thought of a better plan- what about listening to some music? Yes, that sounded great. She was going to listen to some pleasant, Romanian music, read some romance poetry (also Romanian, of course) then cook some traditional food, watch a romance-comedy online, maybe, waste some more time and then go to sleep. Oh! And how could she forget. Of course she'd also enjoy a big glass of beer- since it was yet another typical, relaxing Friday night.

Smiling at the sight of the pleasant plans she made, her attitude became slightly more cheerful. As she passed by the other nations, she waved and said goodbye, giving them her best regards until the next meeting. She was happy now. All that's good is good. Or so she thought. Until…

… she managed to get home safely and was eagerly waiting to apply her battle schemes- battle against stress, you see-, as she took the keys out of her pocked and unlocked the front door of her rather small and modest home. She had a house in the outskirts of Bucharest, the capital, which is not to be mistaken as Budapest unless one desires his own death, in the district also known as Pipera where mostly foreign or average/wealthy Romanian people had from tiny to huge buildings.

As Cristina was opening the door and was ready to dash inside, the instant she made a step forward was the instant she bumped into something. Or rather, someone. Someone familiar, might I add. Her face going white and her hopes of relaxing becoming nothing but mere fantasies, she stared in horror at the tall Russian placed at the entrance of her house. "De ce eu(Why me)?" she wondered, already imagining what was going to happen. "I've come to spend the night over, да? I was very lonely, since Litva is with his friend Pol'sha and they left me all by myself" the man pouted. Romania tried not to growl, and sweatdropped. 'Of course he wouldn't even think of visiting his delusional sisters' she thought. 'Nor would he mess around with Estonia or Letonia(Latvia), because if Lituania is missing, there's no fun. So, oh joy, he came to bother me' she guessed, and sighed deeply. "Da, bine(Yes, fine). Just… can you move, please? I'd like to enter _my own house_, if you'd be so kind to let me in" she smiled. Of course she was using sarcasm, my friends. Because you see, she could be quite a short-tempered woman at times.

Russia nodded in response and moved his big body to the side, allowing the brown-haired person to enter her house. He looked around, and smiled. "This place hasn't changed much. Neither have you. You're pretty much the same, Cristina-chan" he said, and closed the door behind the woman. Cristina decided not to reply, or else she was going to have her head cut off by him sooner or later. 'Da, merci(Yeah thanks). You invite yourself in my house and then start commenting around. And you're always wearing that goddamn annoying smile' she thought, frowning slightly. She walked over to the couch where she placed her bag, and turned to look at the male as she removed her jacket. "I'll be back in few minutes. My room is down the hall, second room to the right, if there's any emergency" she informed him. And she hoped so bad that he wouldn't just say-" да, I know." …Damned Russian.

Grumbling something under her breath and saying it was all hopeless against Ivan, she disappeared down the hall. Russia's eyes followed her figure until she couldn't be seen anymore. He closed his eyes as his smile widened. A thought crossed his mind, and so he dazed off, staring at one of the huge portraits on the walls- a portrait of none other but Vlad Dracul, generally known as Dracula. Which, from Romania's point of view, was totally lacking any sense and it was historically offending to her country. But Vlad? Oh, she found him a great ruler and looked up to him, in spite of his hobby of impaling people who stood up against his country. The country known as Wallachia, to be precise.

After a couple of 15 minutes or so, Russia was getting bored. He did not like that. 'Cristina-chan said her room was the second to the right, да?' he thought, as he stood up from the big couch and walked towards the targeted room. He opened the door without knocking, but instead he announced his presence vocally. "Cristina-chan, are you in here?" he asked loudly, opening the door of her room slowly. All he could see though was a double bed and the clothes she was wearing resting on the bright blue sheets. Curious of where she might be, the man proceeded moving forward, looking around her room. He'd been there before, but as he had already mentioned, things had changed a bit. And if his memory was still good, and she was sure it was, he studied the four walls until he found the one with a door leading to her bathroom. Analyzing the circumstances, she was surely taking a shower. Or was she?

As people say, curiosity killed the cat, but as long as the cat was this well-built Russian man, it was rather hard to believe. He was now next to the room of the other's bathroom, and he opened the door with no hesitation whatsoever; only to find Romania dripping wet, just stepping out of her shower, when she noticed Ivan. Her innocent eyes widened as she stared at him, all of her face going red, especially her cheeks. She hurried to pull the thin curtain belonging to the shower over her completely exposed body and stared at Ivan with an expression which cannot be explained in words.

At her reaction, Ivan stared. Just stared. He pouted, coming closer to the girl, who was just trying not to reveal her vital regions to the big man. "I-Ivan! I-I thought I told you I'd be back s-soon! Wh-Why are you here?" she barely managed to talk in embarrassment. The Russian's pout turned into a smile as he now stood right in front of her and removing the glove from one of his hands, he placed it onto the other's head, patting her. "You look so cute when you're put into situations like these, Cristina-chan" he informed her, completely ignoring her question, tilting his head to the side. Cristina only tried to back away some more, but it was futile, since she was already forcefully pressing herself against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall.

Russia giggled softly. He was enjoying the image before his eyes: Romania, completely helpless, pulling at the shower curtain with all that she could so she would not show too much of her uncovered skin, blushing furiously and staring with those adorable, innocent and desperate eyes at him. He moved an inch closer, almost closing the gap between their faces and, especially, their lips, making Cristina tense up suddenly and her heart beat at an unbelievably fast speed. She swallowed hard, and was confused with her own feelings- was she scared? No, it wasn't like that. She was sure, somehow, that Ivan was not to harm her. At least, not at that very moment. She parted her lips so she could speak, but all that she could manage was muffle a gasp as soon as the other's pair of pale, frozen lips were stealing the warmth of her own.

She was shocked; was that really happening? Was it real? Was that Ivan? Was she Cristina? Were they in her bathroom? And more importantly- were they.. _kissing_? But before she could think and also understand anything, the other was already gone back into the living room. And she was stuck to that wall for a good couple of moments before managing to breathe. She blinked confused, sweat running down her forehead, as she bit her lower lip. "This did not just happen" she whispered to herself, looking towards Ivan's direction.


End file.
